


Healing a Broken City

by Xiaojian



Series: Men and Demons [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst, Demon!Venom, Gen, Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sickness, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7078759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaojian/pseuds/Xiaojian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their healer walked away one day, and never came back.</p><p>(A small prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6368998/chapters/14588296">Careful What You Summon</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing a Broken City

Nobody blamed their healer when it hid itself away. They did not admonish its cowardice when they finally found its safehouse, tucked far outside of the city. They had all heard the stories of the last war.

Healers were the first to go. Captured for their usefulness, forced to work themselves to the bone for the enemy. If they managed to keep themselves alive, they were slaughtered the moment their services were no longer needed. Mostly, they died on the job, exhaustion and starvation stealing away their breath.

Nobody wanted their healer to suffer that. It was kind, it was understanding, and it had served them well its whole life. It had been there for the births of countless children, eased countless elders on their deathbeds, and cured countless illnesses. Still, though, they sought him out – chaos had taken the city and remade the place in its image. Rules meant nothing without a leader to enforce them. Trust was a meaningless word now. Beloved neighbors became thieves, murderers, and rapists overnight.

But ill health stopped for nothing, and the scholar would not let its infant die. It held its child in all four of its arms, cradled tight to its chest. Somehow hoping that its own frantic heartbeat would lend some speed to the infant’s sluggish pulse, perhaps. Rationality is a foreign concept when one’s child is in danger.

It had taken ages, but the scholar had finally located the healer’s new residence. Reluctantly, it unwound a single limb from around its child, knocking on the unobtrusive stone door. Tucked low and deep into the side of a craggy mountain. Hard to find even if you knew what to look for.

It called the healer’s name softly. It knew its voice would be recognized. It and the healer had lived next to each other for as long as the scholar could remember. It seemed like only yesterday that the healer had eased the birth of the child that was now so close to death.

The door was pulled open slowly, reluctantly. The healer let out a sigh of relief on seeing the scholar was alone. Like many demons with an inclination for healing magic, it could be mistaken for a human at first glance. It gave the scholar a warm smile, soft blue eyes shining, and waved it inside.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right.” It said.

“I’d say the same for you. You were difficult to find – your aura’s changed.”

The healer sighed. “That’s the idea. I don’t want to abandon anyone, but I don’t want – ”

“It’s all right. I understand. We understand.”

It smiled. “Still, it’s concerning just how many have managed to find me. You’re the third.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” the scholar promised. “I wouldn’t have come to you if it wasn’t an emergency.” It nodded to the infant in its arms. “Its breathing is so weak, I can barely feel it. And its heartbeat…”

The healer took the child, placed it gently on a makeshift cot in the corner of the dark space. “I’ll take care of it. Make yourself comfortable. I don’t have much food, but…”

The scholar sat on a lone chair in the corner, watching in concern as the healer examined the child slowly, carefully, gently. It hummed softly as it worked, and the scholar found itself drifting off to sleep.

It was awoken by the sound of violent pounding on the door.

An authoritative voice read off the healer’s name, followed by a gruff “Open up.”

The color drained from the healer’s face. The scholar didn’t recognize the voice at the door, but it could feel that whoever was outside was powerful. Very powerful.

The healer picked up the child, placed it in two of the scholar’s arms, pressing a vial of clear liquid into a third hand. “It should be fine. Make it drink this if it gets worse. I’m sorry, I think - ”

There was another impatient knock. The healer turned its gaze to the door. “I’m coming!”

The scholar sat, frozen, as it went to the door and opened it. It couldn’t see who was out there, but it could see the muscles in the healer’s neck tense, his lips stiffen. There was muttering outside. So there was more than one demon out there.

“Come with us,” the voice demanded.

The healer turned back to the scholar for the briefest moment, and the scholar didn’t see fear in its eyes. Just acceptance.

Then it walked out the door, and that was the last anyone saw of it.

Their leader returned, what felt like ages later. The scholar wasn't around to see the announcement. Its neck had been slit only a few days after returning from the healer's safehouse, when it had refused to give up its home to a group of bandits. Its child had cried in the next room all the while, though it couldn't see what was happening.

In the work of rebuilding a broken city, no one had time to hold a funeral for a single healer.


End file.
